Tiger, Tiger
by labgeekluvr
Summary: Greg ponders what it means to be called Tiger, and the significance of a stuffed tiger given to him as a gift as he recuperates from being beaten, faces an inquest, and finds himself falling in love. Chapters 13 are in chapter 1, chapter 4 is in chapter2
1. Chapter 1

Title: TIGER, TIGER

Author: labgeekluvr

Rating: M

Time: Chapter One–shortly after Fannysmackin', Chapter two–between Fannysmackin' and Double-Cross, Chapter Three–coincidental with Post-Mordem (season 7 episodes)

Disclaimer: The character Chelsea Snow is my own, the rest are property of CBS and the writers/creators of CSI: Crime Scene Investigations.

Prosecuting attorney Chelsea Snow left her office and made her way to the hospital. She had heard on the news about the latest victim of a gang of youths who were preying on tourists, beating and robbing them. One man had already died, a lady was severely beaten. But this latest report struck Chelsea to the heart–there were two victims, and one of them was CSI Greg Sanders, with whom she had dinner the night before.

Greg was en route to pick up a piece of evidence related to the beatings when he encountered the gang in an alley, assaulting tourist Stanley Tanner. He called for back-up, but knew he had to do something to stop the assailants from killing their victim. So he coasted down the alley in his Denali, lights flashing, scaring off most of the assailants–except for one. One youth reached down and picked up a large, heavy object, prepared to hurl it through the windshield at Greg's head. But Greg stepped on the gas, striking the youth Moments later, the other assailants returned, and Greg was dragged from the Denali and beaten.

As Chelsea raced to the hospital, her mind raced back to the events of the day before. She remembered how impressed she had been by this new CSI, his handling of the testimony and his confident demeanor. She was also quite surprised that he took her up on her offer to have dinner that evening. They had each ordered a glass of wine with dinner, and Greg was about to order a second when his beeper went off.

"Looks like our evening's about to be cut short," he said.

"So soon?" Chelsea asked, disappointed. "Another beating?"

"Doesn't look like it. They just might need an extra hand processing evidence. I'm sure we'll hear from these thugs again before the night is over."

"Well, I had a great time getting to know you, and I hope we can do this again", Chelsea smiled.

"Same here. I hate to eat and run, can I at least get the tip?"

"Don't worry about it. I asked you to dinner, remember?"

"Right. Well, have a good evening, and be careful driving home," he said, kissing her on the cheek. She returned his kiss and said, "The same to you. Go get'em, Tiger".

She remembered his smile, and how her cheek tingled as she watched him leave, and how hard it was for her to sleep that night for all the excitement. Now her heart filled with dread as she made her way to Greg's hospital room. She had heard that things were not going well with Demetrius, the young man that Greg had hit with the car. If Demetrius died, she knew there would be an inquest and that she may be at the very least called as a witness against Greg. The thought of that made her ill.

She drew a deep breath as she softly entered his room, carrying a stuffed tiger that she had bought for him. She could see him sitting on the bed, bandaged and bruised, and visibly shaken.

"Greg," she whispered.

He stood up slowly and shakily and turned to face the gentle voice he heard.

"Chelsea...you shouldn't be here," he whispered.

"What do you mean? What's wrong?" Chelsea asked, drawing closer and touching him softly.

"Demetrius, the kid I hit with the car...he's dead," Greg stammered. "He died just about an hour ago"

"Oh, Greg," Chelsea whispered, opening her arms to him. Greg fought back tears as she wrapped her arms around him and began to rock him slowly.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart."

"That means there'll be an investigation now. It's not good for you to be here with me," Greg whispered.

"Well, if it just happened an hour ago, I think we're safe for a little while. But you're right, once the investigation starts we'll probably need to keep a low profile until the inquest is over. I'm so sorry this happened."

"Yeah," Greg lowered his head.

"Listen to me. You're a good man. It's unfortunate a life was lost, but if you hadn't done what you did, the life lost would have been yours, and possibly Stanley Tanner's and God knows how many more before those thugs were stopped. You're a hero, Greg Sanders. I just pray that if I'm called to be part of this investigation that it doesn't damage your case," Chelsea said, eyes welling with tears.

"Chelsea," Greg whispered, taking her face in his hands, "the best way for you to help me is to tell the truth about what you know, and don't speculate on what you don't know. Just tell the truth".

"The truth shall set you free," Chelsea smiled.

"So I've heard. You'd better go now."

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay?" Chelsea asked.

"I don't want you to get in trouble."

"I'd be willing to take that risk if you'd want me to stay."

Greg smiled tenderly at her. "No, I'll be fine. I'm sorry though we'll have to cancel our next date".

"Not cancel, postpone," Chelsea smiled. She handed him the stuffed tiger. "I brought this for you," she said, lightly kissing him on the lips. "Go get 'em, Tiger".

"See you later, alligator." Greg whispered.

"After a while, crocodile", Chelsea laughed, turning to leave.

"Wait a minute, I thought I was Tiger", Greg protested. Chelsea smiled and blew a kiss as she walked out the door. Greg looked down at the stuffed tiger in his hands, "Tiger, huh?" He said, half to the tiger and half to himself. "Felt like a tiger two days ago, not so much today, my friend. But I guess that's why you're here". He set the stuffed tiger on the bedside table, lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, trying to block out his thoughts of Demetrius by focusing on Chelsea and her smile.

TIGER, TIGER–chapter two

Chelsea had just finished going over evidence with Warrick Brown concerning a robbery case he was working on. She was relieved to know that she would not be called to testify against Greg at the inquest, however she was disappointed that her case involving Warrick's robbery was the same day. She wouldn't be able to sit in on the hearing to give Greg support like she wanted, and she wasn't sure how she was going to tell him. When she arrived at the CSI headquarters to meet with Warrick she walked past the lab. Greg was on desk duty temporarily following the accident. He was on the phone, but caught her eye, and picked up the tiger that had been sitting on his desk, and moved its paw to wave at Chelsea. Chelsea smiled and waved back.

Now she was heading back towards the lab, trying to figure out if she wanted to risk talking to him, since the investigation was ongoing. As she passed the glass windows she heard a rapping noise. She looked, but Greg was nowhere in sight. Instead, one of the glass windows had been slid open and the tiger was sitting on the edge waving at her, obviously manipulated by someone's hand. She smiled and drew nearer to the tiger.

"Well, hello, Mr. Tiger," she smiled. "I see that Mr. Sanders has stepped out and left the lab in your very capable paws."

The tiger nodded, and Chelsea giggled softly.

"Yes, well. Since Mr. Sanders is not in, I was wondering if you could give him a message for me".

The tiger nodded again.

"Good. Tell Mr. Sanders that there's good news and bad news. The good news is that I won't have to testify against him."

The tiger clapped his paws, making Chelsea laugh.

"Unfortunately the bad news is that I have another court case to prosecute that day, so I won't be able to be there."

The tiger lowered his head.

"But I promise that as soon as my court case is done I will fly to the inquest with all possible speed to see how Greg...er, Mr. Sanders is doing. Okay?"

The tiger nodded.

"Good. One more thing. When you see Mr. Sanders, could you give him a big hug and a kiss for me, and tell him I hope he is well, and that I miss him, and that I'm looking forward to the day when this will all be over? Could you do that for me?"

The tiger opened its paws to Chelsea as if it wanted to hug her. She bent down and kissed the tiger on the nose. As she did, she felt the tigers paws on her face, as well as the slight brush of the fingers that held them. She touched the hands that held the tiger and felt them tremble. She raised up slowly and peeked over the tiger's head. She saw a pair of warm, chocolate-brown eyes and tousled sandy hair. She longed to brush the hair from his forehead, but knew that if she touched him that neither one of them would be able to let go. So she placed her hand on the tiger's head and whispered,

"Thank you...", then glancing into Greg's eyes, she smiled, "Mr. Tiger."

Chelsea winked at Greg and turned to leave, and Greg, who had been hiding below the window, stood up to watch her leave. As soon as she disappeared from view, he walked back to his desk, holding the tiger in his hands, and sat down. He touched the tiger's nose to his cheek, then hugged it against his chest. He didn't care at that moment if anyone saw him–this was as close to kissing Chelsea as he was going to get for a while.

"Thanks, Chelsea," he sighed.

TIGER, TIGER–chapter three

The court was in recess for lunch. Chelsea noticed Warrick leaving in a hurry.

"Where's the fire?" She asked. "You're not going to stick around?"

"Naw," Warrick replied. "I wanna head back to work to see what's going on with Greg. He wanted me to give you this."

Warrick handed her the stuffed tiger. In its paws was tucked a note rolled up and tied with a ribbon.

"Thanks, Warrick. I'll come down as soon as I'm finished up here".

"I'll let him know. Good luck." Warrick said as he walked out.

Chelsea pulled the note from the tiger's paws and unrolled it. Tears filled her eyes as she read:

_No matter what happens today, I love you. Love always, "Tiger"_

She sat down in her chair, hugging the stuffed tiger close to her, trying her best not to cry.

Chelsea did her best to make it through the day's court proceedings. This was the last place she wanted to be. As soon as court let out she ran down the hall to the courtroom where the inquest was being held, but it was empty. The session was apparently over. She looked out the window and saw Greg surrounded by a flock of reporters. A man was standing next to him with his arm around him. Chelsea hurried down the steps and out to the courtyard. She saw the reporters but couldn't find Greg anywhere. Suddenly she saw him, sitting on a bench by himself, his head in his hands. Her stomach dropped as she slowly approached him.

"Greg," she whispered. "Please don't tell me it's bad news."

Greg looked up, he had been crying. He reached for her, and she put her arms around him, stroking his hair.

"No, I'm alright. The found the cause of death 'excusable'. Demetrius' family isn't satisfied though. They could still press charges. The brother threatened to assault me in the men's room. This isn't over yet, Chelsea".

"Did anyone see him? Hear him? You could sue for harassment."

"I don't want to make this anymore difficult than it already is. Nobody saw anything. There was a guy who came in to wash his hands, but the brother and I were just standing there staring at each other at that moment." Greg sighed.

"Let me take you home with me. We'll stop at your favorite Chinese place, get some Mongolian beef," she said, kissing him,"and make up for lost time. How's that sound?"

"Sounds good to me. If we could just stop by the office so I can let Grissom know I'm taking the rest of the day off."

"Sure, you ahead and do that, and meet me in the parking garage."

Chelsea waited in her car for Greg while he went to see Grissom. She saw him enter the garage and start to walk towards her car. Then she heard another car revving it's engine and a pair of bright headlights shining on Greg. Her heart raced as she looked and saw another man standing behind Greg. Greg turned toward the man, who handed him a document. The man walked away, and the revving car sped towards Greg. Greg stepped out of the way, narrowly missing being hit.

"Greg!" Chelsea screamed, jumped out of the car and ran towards him.

"I'm alright, Chelsea. I'm alright," he said, taking her in his arms.

"He nearly ran over you! Was that the brother?"

"Yeah it was. I told you this wasn't over."

"What did that man give you?" Chelsea asked.

"A summons. They're bringing a civil suit against me."

"Oh, Greg."

"Listen, Chels, maybe I should just go home. My legal troubles are far from over..."

"Forget it, you're coming home with me," she said adamantly, taking his hand.

"Chelsea, wait."

"Greg, it's a civil suit. These aren't criminal charges, and they won't hold water anyhow." She took his face in her hands. "You've been alone through too much of this already. I'm through with being careful, I just want to take care of you. Now get in the car, we're going home."

"Yes ma'am", he said hesitantly.

Chelsea opened the door to her apartment, took the bags of food from Greg's hands and headed toward the kitchen. Greg took off his blazer and removed his tie and draped them over a chair. He put his hands on the back of the chair and leaned against it exhausted. Chelsea noticed his weariness.

"C'mon sweetie," she said. "You need some food in your system, that will help get your energy back".

"I'm not really hungry, Chelsea. Sorry."

"No problem, hon. We can put it in the fridge for later." She put the food in the fridge, then walked over to him and slid her arms around his waist from behind, kissing his shoulder.

"Listen," she said softly, "you're exhausted and need to relax. Why don't you take your shirt off, lie down on the couch, and I'll give you a backrub?"

He nodded and began to take off his shirt as she fetched some bottles from the kitchen. He lay down on his stomach and she sat beside him, setting the bottles on the coffee table.

"What's that?" He asked.

"Lavender oil and rosemary oil, it will help you sleep." she replied.

"Smelly stuff. I don't think anything will help me sleep, not until this is over." he sighed.

"Just try to clear your mind, and concentrate on my touch, just for tonight." She whispered. She placed in her hands a few drops of lavender, rosemary, and sweet almond oil. She rubbed the oil between her hands to warm it, and applied the oil to Greg's neck, back and shoulders with broad, gentle strokes.

Greg felt his skin tingle from the oils and the tension in his body melt away under Chelsea's magical hands. He felt as though he were melting into the couch. Chelsea could feel his body relaxing, and slowly changed her stroke to a light caress. Thinking he had fallen asleep, she stopped massaging him, and turned to clean up her bottles. But Greg rolled onto his back and reached for her, pulling her into his arms, saying "Don't stop, don't leave me."

"I won't leave you. I'm here, Tiger." she said, stroking his hair.

Greg laughed softly. "You keep calling me that, but I feel nothing like a tiger. I'm so scared."

"You don't think tigers get scared? You're a wounded tiger. You're like a tiger in the circus now. Everyone is watching you, expecting you to jump through hoops of fire. Someone's cracking a whip, poking a chair at you. There's always one more hoop to jump through, always the chance you'll get burned. I'd be worried if you weren't scared. But what do tigers do when they're scared? Do they run away? No, they fight. And I know you have that fight in you yet. That's why I call you Tiger."

"Do you love me?" Greg asked.

"Yes," Chelsea replied.

She kissed him passionately, gliding her fingertips across his chest and stomach as he unbuttoned her blouse. He rolled her over so that she lay on her back beneath him, and kissed her from her neck and shoulders to her stomach as he slowly removed the rest of her clothing. His kisses felt hot against her skin and caused her to tremble. She embraced her wounded tiger and he lost himself in that embrace. He found himself in a world that knew nothing of beatings, trials, or death–only tenderness, only Chelsea. He breathed her name over and over again as passion overtook him. Afterwards he sank, breathless and trembling, into her arms and laid his head on her shoulder. She stroked his hair, waiting for the trembling to cease and for his breathing to slow. Finally he eased into a peaceful sleep in the arms of the woman he loved, the first peaceful sleep he had known in weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Tiger, Tiger chapter 4

Greg's civil suit was coming to a close. Chelsea had come to offer support, and had brought the stuffed tiger with her. The hearing went in Greg's favor, and he heaved a sigh of relief. Chelsea ran up and threw her arms around Greg's neck and kissed him, and they held each other and smiled. "It's finally over," he said to her.

However, as they turned to leave, Aaron James, brother of Demetrius James who Greg had accidentally killed, pulled a gun on Greg. Someone hollered "Gun!" and everyone else in the courtroom ducked for cover. Security guards and police officers in the courtroom trained their weapons on Aaron. Greg raised his hands and tried to position himself so that Chelsea was behind him. A voice behind Aaron pleaded, "Aaron please, no more bloodshed. I don't want this."

"But I do, Mama," Aaron replied. "He killed my brother, he's not going to get away with this. He's got to pay!"

Greg steeled himself as Aaron pulled back the safety. He heard someone yell "Drop your weapon!" Everything was happening in slow motion. In a flash Aaron's gun went off. Another shot was fired, sending Aaron to the floor. Greg was unharmed, but when he looked beside him, he saw that Chelsea had fallen. Aaron had shot her instead of him.

"How does it feel, Killer?" Aaron asked. "Now you'll know how it feels to lose someone you love!" Those were Aaron's last words.

"Chelsea!" Greg shouted as he stooped down and gathered Chelsea in his arms. The stuffed tiger she held was covered in blood. Blood was trickling from the corner of her mouth. Greg wanted to wipe it away, but instincts told him not to. Chelsea reached up and touched his face.

"No matter what happens, I love you Tiger," she whispered. She closed her eyes and her head slumped against his chest.

"I love you too, Chelsea. Chelsea? Chelsea!" Greg cried, but got no response. "Oh, God Chelsea! NO! Don't you leave me. Don't leave me..." he sobbed holding her tightly and rocking her in his arms. The paramedics came and wrestled Chelsea's body away from Greg, but they were too late. Chelsea was gone.

Sara came to process the crime scene. She arrived to find Greg sitting in the middle of the courtroom floor, where he had been holding Chelsea in her last moments. He was covered in her blood, staring into space, rocking back and forth holding the stuffed tiger. When Sara saw him it took her back to the morning after he had been beaten, how she encountered him lying in the alley. He had been stabelized, but he looked so broken and bloody. Now in this moment he looked very similar. Sara stooped down beside him and touched his hair, just like she did that terrible morning.

"Hi, Sara," Greg whispered, not looking at her.

"Hi, Greg," Sara whispered back.

"I'm glad you're here," Greg whispered. "You have a habit of turning up at the worst moments of my life."

"How do you mean?" Sara asked.

"You were there when the lab blew up. You and I both got exposed to that toxic stuff and had to hit the hazmat showers together. Remember that? You were there for me when I was beaten in that alley," he turned to look in her eyes, "and now you're here again."

Sara stroked his tear-stained cheek. "There's no place I'd rather be. I only wish it were under happier circumstances," she said.

Greg lowered his head to rest on her shoulder, closed his eyes, and just let her hold him. Sara wrapped her arms around him, still stroking his hair. After a few moments, Sara reached down and touched the tiger that Greg was holding.

"This little guy was pretty special to you both, wasn't he?" Sara asked.

"Yeah, he was. Chelsea first brought him to me when I was in the hospital. She picked him out because she had given me the nickname 'Tiger'. Ever since then he's kind of been the glue between us. We'd pass him back and forth whenever we'd need to tell each other how much we loved each other," Greg explained. "It should go with her. It needs to go with her."

"We'll need to process it for evidence first," Sara explained. "There's blood evidence, and it appears the bullet went through it," Sara said, taking the tiger from Greg. She then placed her hand on Greg's cheek. "But I promise, I will do my best to get this back to you so you can give it to Chelsea at her funeral, okay?"

"Okay," Greg whispered.

"Okay," Sara said. "There's blood on you too, so I'll need your clothes. I brought a jumpsuit for you. Let's get you processed." Sara handed Greg a jumpsuit and helped him stand up. He changed into the jumpsuit and brought his clothes back to Sara for evidence.

Sara carefully processed the tiger and managed to arrange to have it returned to Greg for the funeral. Sara had cut away the front amd back panels of the tiger's body to preserve the evidence. She covered the areas she had cut away with a little t-shirt made for a stuffed animal that read "Tiger". Greg smiled when he saw it.

Chelsea looked so beautiful at her viewing, Greg could hardly believe she was really dead. But he knew the horrible reality of what had happened. He walked up to the casket, hugged the tiger and kissed it on the nose, and carefully placed it in Chelsea's hands with the funeral director's help. "He belongs to you now, Angel," Greg said, stroking Chelsea's hair and face. "No matter what happens, I will always love you, and I'll always be your 'Tiger'," he said, kissing her on the forehead. He gazed at Chelsea one last time, then sat down next to Sara, who took his hand. "Thanks for what you did, and for being here. I wouldn't be able to make it through this otherwise," Greg said.

"There's no place I'd rather be than where you need me most," Sara said. Greg squeezed her hand and held it tightly through the whole service.


End file.
